


Accidents Happen

by poisns



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Iron Dad, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is soft, dang windows, is stevebucky real in this who knows, spider son, stuff happens init, tony isnt even mad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-05 05:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisns/pseuds/poisns
Summary: Tony can't figure out why the window seemed... off.Until he does.





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> i have an insane amount of homework to get done & my acting exam tomorrow but instead of doing that i thought i should prob contribute to the Peter&Tony tag since i love it dearly. and i dunno how i did it but i banged out 5 pages without even realising. this is also un-beta'd cos i really cba hahahah its waffly and i will look at it again next week whoop whoop leave a comment if u want no pressure

There was something not quite right about the window.

Don’t get Tony wrong, his eyesight was more than substantial, but there were times when things would go amiss. Things like wrongly placed items around the compound, say a coffee cup, or a book that someone had failed to put away. Sometimes even going as far as an entire part of somebody’s suit (Sam had incorrectly stored his wings a number of times, leaving them either placed on top of the _ridiculously_ _expensive_ coffee table, or on the couch like they were keeping his spot warm).

Something just seemed wrong. Why was it taking forever and a day to find out just what it was? Was it the wall surrounding the window? They looked fine...bar the shallow dent that had been created when Wanda conjured up enough magic to make a cockroach scattering along the surface dematerialise (needless to say, the whole compound felt the blow at 2:34 in the morning). “Am I finally falling into a state of insanity? Over a window? Jesus, Fri...please tell me you see this…” Tony dragged a hand down his face.

“Boss, I don’t seem to understand what the problem is.”

Sigh.

“Yeah, course you don’t.” He mumbled. “Where’s the kid?”

“Peter is currently on the roof. Would you like me to direct him to the common area?” Friday sounded… _oddly_ polite. Did she always talk like she had done something terrible and was trying her absolute best to cover up the crime with the tone of her voice?

_No. That sounded stupid._

“Sure, sweetheart. Tell him to bring his best pair of eyes. And also that he needs to stop standing on that damn roof, the wind up there could whisk that one-fifty pounds of spider-boy to God knows where.”

 

-

 

Five strangely long minutes later, Peter poked his head from around the corner before sauntering into the common area where Tony was stood, glaring at the wall as if in the midst of an interrogation.

“Hey, Mister Stark. What was it that you needed?”

Tony whirled around to face the boy, arms crossed, brows furrowed, almost appearing disconcerted.

“Pete,” he started, “I’m questioning everything, right now. You see, I floated on in here ten minutes ago, and I truly believe that I’m being tricked. Or ‘played’.”

Peter’s expression was priceless; raw concern, mixed up with nervousness, worry. Did he know something Tony didn’t?

… What was even the issue?

_Oh yeah, the window._

“I need you to reassure your old man that there isn’t something severely wrong with that window. I mean, I walked in here, my aim was to fix up my… sixth cup of coffee this morning,” Peter winced, “and this damn thing is just there, mocking me.”

Peter glanced to the window and scoffed over dramatically. Perhaps _too_ over dramatically. “Looks fine to me. I mean, maybe its the wall? ‘Things pretty beat up, you know-”

“Peter… Kid, it’s not the stupidly large abbraision in my really very expensive granite wall.” He sniffed.

“Sorry Mister Stark. I have no clue then.” Peter turned to leave, but hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, always, kid. Always. _Maybe I’ve actually lost it this time…_ ” Tony muttered under his breath.

“What have you lost? I’ll help you find- Jesus! What happened to the window?”

Oh, Steven. Cap. _Capsicle._ How he could be clueless yet so smart was a mystery that no one could ever begin to solve.

He padded into the common room, holding three different books with an old worn blanket draped over his shoulders. His face, much like the same expression Peter was now wearing, showed concern, confusement, and shock. Almost like the expression he had displayed earlier… _when confronted about the window…_

“By the look on your faces, you clearly haven’t noticed that the entire window is missing. Have you had your eyes tested lately, Tony? I’m not being condescending, but _wow-_ ”

Tony turned to Peter abruptly. “Something is vigorously tapping me on the shoulder to let me know that the absence of that ten by ten window has something to do with you.”

“What? No, I- no, why would it be me? How would I even break a window that big? Not to mention how strong those things are, I mean- uh- that would _literally_ be impossible-”

“You’re spluttering. And waffling. Which means what? You’re lying.”

Tony was somewhat unimpressed, but simultaneously intrigued. If Peter was the culprit, how did he do it? The entire window was absent from the frame! The boy was frozen, looking like the classic deer caught in headlights.

“Didn’t you break that bulletproof window on the top of the Washington Monument? I mean, come on, Pete. Just tell me. I’m actually really interested-”

“Tony, stop interrogating the kid. Looks like he’s ‘bout to crap his pants.’ Bucky wandered into the common room, also with a blanket far more decrepit than the one Steve possessed.

“Oh my _God,_ what is this? A family meeting? Anyone else want to join me on my quest to find out what heart attack-inducing stunt Peter has pulled off this time?” Tony cupped his hands around his mouth as if he was calling out to any looming members of the compound that could have been listening to what was going on.

Bucky looked at him with displeasure, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Well, suddenly, I’m going. Steve, feel free to come with me.” He motioned towards the unlit hallway which lead to the apartments, almost urging Steve to go with him just so that he could escape the ultimate uncomfortableness of the situation in front of him. Steve nodded, putting the books he was holding onto back into their slots on the shelf.

“Hope you figure out the window mystery. See you guys.” Steve waved over his shoulder, then placing his hand onto the small of Bucky’s back as they left the room. Tony thought for a second as he watched the two men leave, and realised that a (fully in tact) window had just opened up.

Peter kept to himself a lot of the time. If he wasn’t having a particularly good day, it would require the utmost amount of prying and begging from the person asking him. So one could imagine how much he would keep out of other people’s business. Steve and Bucky were the perfect example. Yes, it was unclear on whether they were in some sort of romantic relationship, or if they were just _really close pals_. Peter wanted to believe the latter, just to spare himself from the everlasting thought that they would be… doing adult things within such close proximity to a child-

“They better behave. Old super-soldiers can get _wild-”_

“Mister Stark! Stop-” He laughed weakly, eyebrows upturned.

“Well Pete, I pity you. Really, I do. You’re the one in the room directly opposite them. If only you knew what really went on in there-”

“Fine! Oh my- wow, jeez! Yes, I broke it! The window… I, it wasn’t on _purpose,_ except it sorta’ was, I just-”

“Petey-pie! Slow down, soldier.” Tony motioned to the barstools behind them, urging Peter to sit with him. Peter sat down with hesitation as he watched Tony with hawk-eyes as he sat too. “Loosen up, will ya’? Its giving me major anxiety right now.”

“Sorry, Mister Stark. For giving you, uh, major anxiety. And breaking your window, obviously,” he mumbled. Tony leaned back, a smirk plastered across his face. Peter looked at him, silently questioning the sudden change in demeanour.

“It ain’t nothing, kid. Just a window.” He gently placed a hand onto the boy’s shoulder. “But Christ, if you got hurt in the process and didn’t tell me, I’ll put myself through one too.” He added.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, no no, Mister Stark, no, I’m fine, don’t worry!” He shook his head frantically, hair flopping over his forehead. Tony’s eyes widened this time.

“Fine now, maybe. Fri, did you know about this? I don’t even know why I’m asking, I mean, obviously you did.”

“Yes, boss. However, Peter had pleaded for me not to inform you of the incident, as he said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to make Mister Stark worry so much that he has a freakin’ heart attack, Friday!’. I apologise for disobeying the protocol put in place to immediately let you know when Peter has encountered trouble, boss.”

Tony looked at Peter incredulously. “Hold up,” He held a finger up, “you somehow managed to override Friday?” Tony was still for a second, but when the realisation hit that _Karen_ was somehow in on the fiasco too, he let out a breathy laugh. “How? Clearly I’ve found it incredibly hard to be mad _at all,_ just tell me how you did it so I can bring this story up when you’re twenty-five and _hopefully_ less… stupid.”

Peter retracted his chin and glared at Tony. “‘M not stupid,” He took a breath, and let it out, “Okay. Well, I was swinging around outside at around… eleven? Obviously it was dark, but since it’s so safe around here I wasn’t that worried. When I got bored of going in circles again and again and _again,_ I decided to head back, but I really had to sneeze. Like, really bad,” Tony opened his mouth to interject, but Peter held up a hand, “Wait,” Tony shut his mouth.

“So, as you probably figured, I sneezed. It was pretty powerful, Mister Stark. My whole body shook, like, hardcore shook. Anyway, since I haven’t figured out how to sneeze with my eyes open, I ended up falling in mid-air with nothing to really shoot a web to other than the balcony above the window. And then I went through it. Also hardcore. I didn’t really expect it to break like that. You should write a strongly worded email to whoever fit the thing.”

Tony was silent.

Peter pursed his lips, content with his story, and tucked his hands under his thighs.

“That it? Kid, I was sat here half expecting for you to tell me that you were being dramatically pursued and the only way you could get to safety was through the damn thing. Seriously, I really need to put a baby leash on you.” Tony stood up and put a hand through Peter’s hair, moving the curls off of his forehead. “Where did you even put, like, one-thirty kilograms of glass?”

“Oh man, I really didn’t want to rat anyone out,” Peter said. His ridiculously kind nature would eventually be his downfall, said everybody he knew. It wasn’t ever in his best interest to call someone out when they had done something wrong, or made him feel kinda shitty. He’d either wallow or suffer in silence. “Promise not to corner them at breakfast? Remember the whole Sam thing? I hated that, Mister Stark.”

Tony swallowed, “Yeah kid, I remember Sam.” That fiasco was _never_ to be discussed since the minute after it happened. Point was, if anyone unintentionally hurt Peter, whether it be during fight practise in the gym, to even saying something to him to remotely hurt his feelings, Tony would ten times out of ten have the offender’s head on a stick.

Fortunately for Sam, his kneecaps took the hit instead.

“Worrying is my job, Pete, not yours. Spill.”

Peter sighed reluctantly. “Fine. It was Bucky- but please! Don’t say anything, okay?”

Tony’s left eye twitched. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Pete. All’s well.” He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and gently shoved him in the direction of the elevator, “Go do your homework, kid.”

Peter opened his mouth and closed it again, glancing at Tony momentarily before shaking his head rapidly. “Sir, I have no homework-”

“Yeah you do. In the workshop. See you down there in five,” he lightly shoved a flustered Peter into the elevator, “Fri, be a dear and send Pete down to my shop.” Peter’s protests were cut off by the elevator doors closing, and Tony took a breath.

“And Fri?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Where’s Barnes at current?”


End file.
